


looking back it seemed so simple (but having done it it's not the same)

by RakshaTheDemon



Series: salt and ashes [3]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:28:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26061937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RakshaTheDemon/pseuds/RakshaTheDemon
Summary: A look at Enlai's decision to leave the ship, set during chapter 5 ofthe sun don't shine underground.
Series: salt and ashes [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1845337
Comments: 6
Kudos: 174





	looking back it seemed so simple (but having done it it's not the same)

Enlai doesn’t know what to expect when Lt. Jee orders the entire crew to assemble on deck. They’ve only done this once before, when they learned that the  _ Pariah _ was to be the new home of the banished princess. Enlai isn’t naive enough to think that her recent actions to defend an army division would be enough to overturn her sentence. Judging by the expressions of the sailors on either side of him, the rest of the crew is just as lost as he is.

Lt. Jee steps onto the bridge deck to address the crew, the princess at his side. General-Prince Iroh stands just behind her. The contrast between the two grown men and the little girl is made even more striking by how easily she mimics their perfect military posture. Enlai wonders if all royal children are forced to become miniature adults by that age, their childhoods sacrificed to the Dragon Throne.

He can’t dwell on the question, though, because Lt. Jee is talking and suddenly Enlai can think of nothing but the possibility that’s been laid out for him. The captain speaks,and Enlai sees the embers of a new future spark to life. 

It’s presented as a choice, but it isn’t. Not for him. 

Because suddenly Enlai can  _ leave _ . It’s the only thing he’s wanted since he got on this boat: to go back home to a life where he gets to see his wife and daughter every day. It’s what he thinks about every time he sees the stick-figure family portrait on the wall above his cot. He has to get home. Namiko  _ needs _ him to get home.

And yet when he looks at the child standing in her red scarf before the crew of a warship, shoulders square and back ramrod straight, there is doubt.

Why is there doubt? Enlai hasn’t spent much time with the princess. Why would he? He’s just the cook. He only makes the food; he doesn’t even deliver it. That kid Yuka has spent more time with the princess than he has. She’s basically a stranger to him. And a choice between a stranger and his daughter is no choice at all. 

...Except this stranger is  _ also  _ someone’s daughter, and that someone has branded her and cast her aside. She’s  _ eleven _ . Barely older than Namiko. In another life the two could be friends playing together, chasing bugs and climbing trees and getting up to all sorts of mischief. He can imagine a life where the princess got to be a  _ child _ , with mud on her clothes and sticks in her hair and not a care in the world. A child who never suffers anything worse than a scraped knee. 

The assembly ends, and Enlai’s feet carry him back to the kitchen. There’s work to do, even if his head is still reeling. For now, at least, he’s still the cook.

There’s an uneasy silence among the sailors on kitchen duty. No one wants to actually voice the question everyone is thinking. The earthbender kid, Koji, tries to start a conversation about elephant koi instead. Someone else makes a lighthearted joke about Koji’s fish obsession, and that’s all it takes for the normal buzz of conversation to resume, providing the background for Enlai’s thoughts.

Who will replace him, he wonders? 

It’s a silly thing to bother thinking about. He’ll be easy to replace. He’s just a cook. He doesn’t run the ship or fight in combat. He’s not a silver-tongued diplomat who can use words like a shield against the ambition of others. Just a guy that makes the food. He can’t even make  _ good _ food with the supplies they have, but he’s been trying his best. Because the princess lost her  _ home _ , lost stability and family and safety and if she can’t have those things then the  _ least _ Enlai can do is try to make sure she has something comforting to eat. It’s not much, but he likes to think it helps in some small way.

Ridiculous as it is, Enlai suddenly finds himself with a burning need to be certain that his successor is someone who also cares. Someone who understands how important food is to people who are stuck far from the comforts of home. Not just for the little princess, but for everyone who chooses to stay and follow her. This ship isn’t just going to be a posting anymore; for the ones who stay, it’s going to be their new home for a very long time. Possibly forever. They’ll need a cook who understands the difference between military rations and actual meals. Someone who can turn a week’s rations into a month’s if pressed, but who also knows how to throw a proper feast when the lean times are over and morale needs a boost. 

He looks over the small group of today’s staff. All of them he knows by sight. Koji is the only one he’s worked with often enough to know by name. Although this is actually the first time in awhile that Koji’s been here. From the state of his clothes at mealtimes, it’s a safe guess that he’s been working the boiler room instead. Which is a pity, because things run more smoothly here when Koji is around. He’s good with people; the uplifted mood in the room is testament to that. Being used as a glorified shovel is a waste of his talents.

When the shift ends, Enlai tells Koji to stay behind.

“Sir?” Koji asks.

“Are you staying?” 

Koji clearly wasn’t expecting that to be the question. “Um, yes, sir?”

“What do you think about kitchen work?”

Koji takes a moment to answer, clearly turning the question over in his mind. His answer comes out slowly. 

“I think it’s important, sir. Maybe the most important job on the ship. Because the ship is run by people, and food is what keeps them going. Like fuel for a furnace. Only a furnace can’t get tired of having the same coal everyday, or get sick if it’s given bad coal. So you can’t just look at it like fueling up a machine, because, well, they’re people. But they’re the people who make everything else on the ship work. So really, this kitchen is what makes the whole place run.”

“And do you like the work?”

“I do, sir.”

Enlai nods and dismisses him.

Koji pauses at the door. “...It’s been a pleasure, sir.”

Afterward Enlai goes to speak with Lt. Jee. The captain listens solemnly to Enlai’s resignation, as if Enlai were a high-ranking official and not just the guy who runs the kitchen. 

Ran. The guy who  _ ran _ the kitchen.

Lt. Jee refuses to make any promises about who will take over the job, but promises to consider Enlai’s suggestion. From anyone else, Enlai would think he was being humored. He knows the captain means it.

That night Enlai stares at the ceiling as if the answer to his dilemma can be divined from the rivets.

He wants to go home. He has only  _ ever  _ wanted to go home.

He also wants to stay.

Staying means committing treason. Lt. Jee was very clear on that. It would be treason for a good cause, but that doesn’t make the consequences any less horrible. If Enlai is branded a traitor he can’t go home, and Enlai  _ will _ go home. He has to.

But going home means leaving behind the little girl who traded bandages for a red scarf. It means walking away from a child who is much too small to be out here; who needs every tiny scrap of support she can get.

A little girl who has chosen to make her own life harder just for the chance to help people she’s never met.

Some day Namiko is going to learn of all this. It’s too good a story to not become popular: the burned princess, driven from the Caldera to live in banishment, using her one tiny ship to fight for the safety of the colonies. Namiko has always loved that kind of story. 

And she’ll want to know her father’s part in it. What did he do, when offered the chance to join the princess in her struggle for the common people? 

When that day comes, will she understand the choice he made? Or will she think her father was too cowardly to stand up for what’s right? The idea twists in his gut, but it’s not enough to change his mind. A future where Namiko calls him coward is better than one where he never sees her again.

In the morning it only takes a few minutes to pack his things. There are only two that really matter: the small compass Ine had given him to guide the way home, and the family portrait on his wall. He makes sure both are safely tucked away in his bag before going on deck to wait for the ship to reach Wuzhang. At least a dozen other sailors also have their bags packed. There aren’t many goodbyes being said; the benefit of not having served together very long. Most of the crewmemebers were just starting to get to know each other.

The ship is just starting into port when a young man flags him down; Enlai recognizes him as the poor kid who got stuck taking care of the komodo rhinos. He’s got a scroll clutched in his hands.

“Sir, I was wondering if--that is, ah, someone told me you’re from Kuebikocho?”

Enlai nods.

“Well it’s just, that’s not far from Tetsunoha. My mom and my sister are there. And, well, with everything going on I don’t know if I’ll be able to get a hawk to them. But I have to get this to them somehow,” he waves the scroll, “because I can’t stand the idea of them thinking I’ve turned traitor.”

“I’ll make sure they get it,” Enlai says. He takes the scroll, and a few moments later it’s tucked safely away next to Namiko’s picture.

He’s doing the right thing, he tells himself as he steps onto the gangplank. Keeps repeating it the whole way down, until he’s standing on solid ground that feels more unsteady than the  _ Pariah _ ever did.

He gives the ship one last glance, and tries not to let his heart ache for the little girl in the red scarf standing on the bridge. He did what he could for her.

Now it’s time to go home.


End file.
